Everything Is Never As It Seems
by SpikeLover7
Summary: Set after 2.09. Merlin does magic to save Arthur's life…again. But this time, Arthur finds out. How does Arthur deal with the fact that the person he depends on and trusts the most has been keeping such a secret from him? Arthur's POV.
1. A Day Like Any Other Day

**Title**: Everything Is Never As It Seems  
**Author**: JALover7  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Genre:** equal parts friendship and angst

**Spoilers**: up to 2.09; MAJOR spoilers for 2.08 "Sins of the Father" and 2.09 "Lady of the Lake"  
**Pairing**: Arthur/Merlin friendship (possible subtext if you squint, but no more than the show)  
**Summary**: Set after 2.09, "Lady of the Lake." Merlin does magic to save Arthur's life…again. But this time, Arthur finds out. How does Arthur deal with the fact that the person he depends on and trusts the most has been keeping such a secret from him? Mostly Arthur's PoV, but will shift at times to someone else's.

**Disclaimer**: Merlin is owned by the BBC.

**AN:** Title shamelessly stolen from the song "Fireflies" by Owl City, which I listened to A LOT when I first starting putting this together. Awesome song, definitely worth a download. Also, I'm American, so I'm gonna try not to abuse British slang by using as little of it as possible, outside of what I've heard on the show.

* * *

**Everything Is Never As It Seems**

**~~Prologue: A Day Like Any Other Day~~**

It _should_ have been the same as any other day. It certainly _started out_ the same as any other day.

"Merlin, where is my breakfast?"

"Merlin, why hasn't my horse been saddled properly?"

"Merlin, stop making so much noise or you'll scare away the hunt!"

"Merlin, I never cease to wonder at how someone as clumsy as you still hasn't managed to fall on his own sword."

"Merlin, where's my dinner?"

"Merlin!"

"My apologies, sire," Merlin answered hurriedly as he pushed open the door to Arthur's chambers, tripping over his feet and nearly sending Arthur's dinner to the floor in his haste.

"It's about time, Merlin," Arthur huffed in his best impersonation of a petulant five-year-old.

Merlin quickly placed the tray carrying Arthur's dinner on the table in front of his master. He removed the lids from their plates, steam issuing forth as the aroma of fresh venison filled the air, making both of their mouths water.

Expecting Arthur to come up with ways to criticize the food like he usually did, Merlin was surprised when Arthur chose instead to tackle his food like a dying man. Merlin tried not to smile as Arthur spent the next five minutes eating furiously. At least his mouth was too busy chewing to criticize.

Finally, Arthur paused in his attack long enough to start breathing again.

"You know, Merlin, normally I would ask what took you, but this time you actually had me wait so long that I'm too hungry to bother."

This time Merlin couldn't help it. He smiled as Arthur took a quick drink and continued attacking his food with a fervor he usually reserved for attacking those who threatened his kingdom. Yes, today was just like any other day.

Which is why what happened next didn't surprise him.

Merlin shivered as what felt like a strong, cold breeze shot through the room. Arthur, on the other hand, kept on eating like nothing had happened.

Merlin's smile disappeared, his body stiffening as magic that was not his own seemed to course through him.

"Something's coming..." Merlin said quietly, though he hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Sorry?" Arthur asked, not looking up from his food.

Merlin slowly crossed the room, his blood tingling in his veins. He glanced out the window, dreading what he might see.

He had been right to be afraid. Looking outside, he saw all the castle guards collapsed on the ground. Sleeping, dead, Merlin didn't know for sure. But he did know they were in trouble. He'd been able to sense the use of other sorcery in the past. This time he could feel the magic tearing at his insides, trying to pull him under, maybe to do whatever it had done to the men outside. But Merlin fought it. He had to warn Arthur.

He turned around, but before he could open his mouth, the door to the room blew open – nearly _exploded_ open – throwing Arthur out of his chair and Merlin into the wall, where he knocked his head and collapsed to the floor next to Arthur's bed.

Merlin looked up, the room spinning around him. Standing in the doorway was a figure Merlin didn't recognize. The face was hidden under the black hood of the owner's cape, but the hand reaching out toward Arthur hinted at both the age and sex of the elderly sorcerer beneath it.

Merlin tried to stand, but he had hit his head rather hard, and he couldn't keep his feet under him. He fell back down against the wall and watched as the stranger whispered hoarse, icy words which sent Arthur flying across the room into the wall opposite Merlin. The sorcerer kept his hand pointed at Arthur, holding him up against the wall a foot off the ground.

Merlin watched as Arthur struggled, his hands at his throat, trying to free himself from the invisible grip that held him, but to no avail.

The stranger slowly removed the hood with his other hand, and though Merlin did not recognize the old man, he knew what the smile spanning the ancient features meant.

He was here for blood. Arthur's blood.

The sorcerer proceeded toward Arthur, ignoring Merlin. It seemed as though he wasn't aware of Merlin at all.

"Who are you?" Arthur asked, breathily, as though the man had his hand around Arthur's windpipe.

"It matters not who _I _am," the sorcerer answered in a harsh whisper. "But I know who _you_ are, Arthur Pendragon." The voice was full of malice and hatred.

"What do you want with me?" Arthur asked, struggling harder.

"You, Arthur? You are merely a means to an end."

Merlin had no idea what the man was talking about, but he didn't have much time to question it. He watched in horror as the man pulled a long dagger from within his robes and pointed it at the crown prince.

"Goodbye, Arthur Pendragon."

Merlin had no time to think, so he didn't.

He acted.

* * *

Arthur struggled against the wall, clutching at his throat. He felt like he was being choked by an invisible hand.

"Who are you?" Arthur asked raspily.

The hand clenched harder around his throat as the man answered him.

"It matters not who _I_ am. But I know who _you_ are, Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur glanced over the man's shoulder. Merlin was collapsed on the floor. He was still conscious, but he was clutching at his head as he tried to stand. It looked like the sorcerer hadn't noticed Merlin's presence. It was best to keep it that way.

"What do you want with me?" Arthur asked.

"You, Arthur? You are merely a means to an end."

Arthur had no idea what the man meant by that, but he wasn't afforded much of an opportunity to wonder. Before he knew what was happening, the man was pulling a dagger out of his robes, pointing it straight at his heart.

"Goodbye, Arthur Pendragon."

What happened next seemed a blur, yet Arthur would remember it quite vividly later on.

Arthur heard words that he didn't understand, but they weren't coming from the sorcerer in front of him. He glanced over at Merlin just in time to see his servant's eyes turn gold. He turned to where Merlin was pointing and watched in wonder as one of his swords glowed blue before rising up into the air, flying across the room, and burying itself deep in the sorcerer's chest.

Arthur collapsed to the floor as the stranger lost his hold on him. The man glanced around the room, clutching at the sword in his chest. His eyes fell on Merlin, and Arthur saw the strangest of looks cross the man's face. He couldn't tell if the sorcerer was angry, surprised, or impressed.

"Emrys…"

Arthur didn't know what the word meant, only that it was addressed to Merlin.

Arthur watched as Merlin lowered his hand, his eyes returning to their normal color as they widened at what he had done.

It looked like the stranger wanted to say more, but all he could manage was a choked groan before he collapsed to the ground.

Arthur turned back to Merlin, still breathing heavily. Merlin glanced up, but when his gaze met Arthur's he looked away as if in shame. Though his eyes had returned to their normal brilliant blue, all Arthur could see was the golden color they had turned before Merlin had flown Arthur's sword across the room and killed the man in front of him by barely lifting a finger.

Up until this point, Arthur had seen Merlin as the most loyal and trustworthy servant, and perhaps _friend_, he had ever had (though of course he would have died before he admitted it to Merlin). Now, he could only see one thing.

Golden eyes.

The man Arthur had trusted with his life was a sorcerer.

_tbc…_

_Reviews are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!_


	2. A Matter of Trust

**AN:** Many thanks for all the great reviews. You all are awesome! Only one quick note: as I'm writing the story, it turns out it will have to shift point of view and not just be Arthur's POV. Not a big deal, just something to be prepared for. :)

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**Everything Is Never As It Seems**

**~~Chapter One: A Matter of Trust~~**

Arthur wasn't sure how long he sat on the floor staring at Merlin, or how long Merlin pointedly ignored his gaze. Seconds, probably, but it felt like much longer.

So Merlin was a sorcerer. His idiotic, clodpoll of a servant was a bloody _sorcerer_. Arthur would have found the idea ridiculous if he hadn't witnessed it with his own eyes. Hell, he _had_ thought it ridiculous that time it had been suggested by the witchfinder. It was absurd. Merlin was lazy and scatterbrained and couldn't wield a sword against a ten-year-old girl to save his life. But then, Arthur supposed, none of that really mattered if you could to magic.

Arthur wondered how this could have happened; how he could have missed it, how Merlin could have hidden it for so long. But mostly he wondered how Merlin could have kept something this big a secret from him.

Merlin raised his head up to meet Arthur's gaze.

"Arthur…." He trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words, which was also fairly ridiculous for Merlin.

Arthur didn't respond; he just continued to stare.

Finally, Merlin made the first move. As he crossed the room, he repeated Arthur's name, his hand reaching out to him.

Arthur acted on instinct.

"Don't touch me!" he replied harshly, putting out one hand to keep Merlin away as he heaved himself up off the floor. "Just stay away from me."

Arthur took a few paces back. He couldn't be near Merlin right now.

"Arthur…." Merlin didn't seem capable of saying anything other than Arthur's name. But Arthur…Arthur had _plenty_ he wanted to say. He just didn't know where to start.

So he started with the obvious.

"You're a sorcerer?"

It was a question, not a statement, as though he wanted Merlin to prove him wrong, to assure him that he'd only imagined Merlin using magic. But deep down Arthur knew better. There was no pretending.

"Arthur-"

"How long, Merlin?"

"What?"

"How long have you been practicing magic?"

"I…." But Merlin looked away. Whether it was in shame or from fear of answering the question, Arthur didn't know.

"_How long, Merlin?" _Arthur asked through clenched teeth as he took a tentative step closer. It was the tone he used to assert himself, the one that said, "I'm the crown prince, and you _will_ answer me.

"Since before I came to Camelot," Merlin answered quietly, still not looking at Arthur. "I was…I was born with it."

"_Born_ with it? That's preposterous!" Arthur scoffed, insulted that Merlin thought him dumb enough to fall for that.

"It's the truth," Merlin said, looking back up at the prince, and Arthur noticed a firm edge in the way Merlin said it.

"The _truth_?" Arthur bit the word out, practically choking on it. "How can you _possibly_ expect me to know what 'the truth' is where it concerns you, Merlin?"

Merlin looked down again, his shame clearly evident this time. He looked not unlike a sad little puppy that had just been reprimanded by its master for running away. But Arthur was not going to let Merlin's sad little lost boy act work on him. He had far more than Merlin's feelings on his mind.

"Have you used magic in Camelot before now?"

"Yes."

Arthur shook his head slightly. "What do you expect me to do with this news, Merlin? You know how my father feels about magic. You know how _I _feel about magic."

Without warning, the shamed look on Merlin's face quickly became one of anger. "What would you have had me do, Arthur? Let the people I love die rather than use my magic?"

Arthur froze, letting the words sink in, too distracted by the conversation to chastise Merlin for his tone. The implication that _Arthur_ was one of those people whom Merlin loved hung heavy in the air between them, not going unnoticed by Arthur, who felt slightly touched. But there was no time for that. He was angry, dammit! And he wanted more answers.

"So back when I first met you, when you saved me from Lady Helen-"

"Yes."

"What about Lord Valiant?"

"I brought the snakes on his shield to life."

Fear coursed through Arthur, and it must have shown on his face, because he saw Merlin flinch slightly at the prince's reaction. Arthur couldn't help it. The thought of Merlin bringing inanimate objects to life with just the power of his mind scared him more than he cared to admit.

"And what about-"

"I enchanted the sword Lancelot used to kill the griffon. I stopped Edwin and his magic beetles. Cornelius Sigan, Nimueh-"

"Nimueh?"

"She's dead. I killed her."

Arthur couldn't hide it this time. He shuddered, taking a small step back. There was no use denying it: the prince was actually afraid of his manservant.

"So that time in Ealdor," Arthur continued as more memories came back to him. "When your friend said he was a sorcerer. That was a lie?"

"Yes. William was trying to protect me."

"And what about that blue light in the cave? When I went to find that flower that I needed to save you?"

"I was barely conscious when that happened, but…yes, that was me, too."

"You weren't anywhere near me when you did that," Arthur said, the implications staggering.

"I know," Merlin answered softly, unable to hold Arthur's gaze anymore as he looked down at the floor once again.

"My god, Merlin."

Arthur wanted to pace – the nervous energy he felt was making him restless – but he had to admit he wasn't sure he wanted to turn his back on a sorcerer, even if it _was_ Merlin.

"All this time…ever since I met you…you've been using magic."

"Arthur, I swear to you, I've only ever used magic for good. To help people. To help _you_."

"Magic is evil," Arthur replied quietly, and Arthur refused to admit to himself that the excuse sounded a bit feeble.

Merlin looked back up, shaking his head slightly. "Arthur, you once told me you thought that not all magic could be evil."

"But that was before. Before I saw how magic is used to spread lies and create conflict," Arthur replied, thinking about Morgause and her lies about his father.

"But I never used magic for those reasons, Arthur. I swear, on my life, that I've only ever used it as a weapon for good.

"A weapon!" Arthur cried, throwing his hands in the air, losing the tentative grasp he had on his temper. As usual, Merlin had put his foot in his mouth. "What a fine choice of words, Merlin! A weapon indeed."

Arthur turned his back on Merlin, his outrage overcoming his fear. They stood in stony silence, Arthur's mind reeling at how Merlin really had been using his magic as a weapon. How many people had Merlin killed with just his thoughts and a few choice words? How many were there that Arthur didn't even know about?

"It's not any different than you using a sword for a weapon, Arthur."

"Of course it is," Arthur responded, turning back to face Merlin. "Magic is evil."

"No, it isn't," Merlin said, and Arthur noticed yet another change come over his servant. Merlin looked strangely determined, as though what he had to say was of the utmost importance and he desperately wanted Arthur to understand. "Without a hand to guide it, your sword is just a piece of metal lying on the floor. It's only when you pick it up that it becomes a force for good or evil, and that all depends on how you use it. Magic is the same as your sword. By itself, it's a neutral entity; it's not inherently good _or_ evil. It's _how you choose to use it_ that matters."

Arthur wanted to come up with a retort, but he couldn't. He was floored. What Merlin had said made a strange kind of sense to him, though it was a wonder Merlin had been able to put it so eloquently. He had to have been practicing. But as Arthur pondered his servant's words, something that had been bothering him for the past few minutes came back to him, pushing all talk of weapons and the nature of good and evil and magic from his mind.

"What about that cursed girl…the one the bounty hunter was looking for? Were you hiding that girl, Merlin? Even though I told the bounty hunter to leave you alone because you had my _absolute trust_? Were you really the one that hid her?"

Merlin seemed to deflate instantly, his determination gone as he once again looked to the floor in shame. He didn't even have to admit to this one out loud.

Arthur fought to keep composure, but he lost the battle.

"So you let me defend you, admit that you had my _trust_, and you were _lying to me?_" Arthur asked angrily. "That girl was a monster, Merlin! She killed innocent people; she nearly killed me and my men. And you were _protecting her?!_"

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered, still not looking up.

"You're 'sorry'?" Arthur mocked. "Well, that makes it all right then! My god, Merlin…" Arthur started pacing slightly, unable to contain his nervous energy anymore as the shock of everything he was hearing became too much for him.

Then Arthur heard Merlin say something very quietly, so quietly he could barely hear it.

"You have no idea what it's like."

Arthur paused in his nervous pacing and stood to face Merlin once more.

"What are you talking about?"

"She knew what it's like to have a secret you can't tell anyone. To have magic you can't use because no one will accept it…because no one else can understand you."

Arthur felt a twinge of sadness at this, but he refused to be anything but angry about this. He had every right to be angry, after all.

"I know there's nothing I can say to you, Arthur…to make up for what I've done. But I want you to know, for whatever little it's worth, that I'm sorry. Truly I am."

Arthur paused, letting the sentiment sink in a bit as he steeled himself to ask one last question of Merlin, the one that, to him, was the most important of all. As Arthur saw it, he had two options, and the answer to this question was going to help him decide once and for all what to do with the news that Merlin was practicing magic.

He took a deep breath, reining in his anger. When he spoke, it was in a calm, even tone.

"Merlin…when you told me…when you told me that Morgause had lied to me about my father…you knew what would happen. You knew that I would come to hate magic…that it would one day color the way I feel about you…but you told me anyway?"

"Yes," Merlin answered softly.

"Why?" Arthur asked, desperately needing the answer.

"I couldn't let you kill your father, Arthur, even it meant…even if it meant that one day you might grow to hate me. I knew you would regret it, that you would hate yourself for it, and I couldn't let that happen, so I had to tell you what Morgause did."

Arthur listened quietly, and after he had pondered Merlin's answer, he made his decision. He knew what he had to do.

"You told me you were sorry, Merlin. Well I'm sorry, too."

"Sire?" Merlin hadn't called him by his proper title throughout this entire exchange, and Arthur knew the only reason he did it now was because he was scared of what Arthur was going to do.

"I should turn you in."

Merlin's face grew pale at Arthur's words.

"I should turn you in…but I can't." Arthur paused for a second, wanting to explain himself right. "Because of what you've done for me, I can't turn you in."

Merlin let out a sigh of relief. "Arthur-"

"But I can't let you stay in Camelot."

"What?" Merlin asked, his voice breaking ever so slightly.

"You cannot stay here, Merlin. I can't protect you here. If my father finds out…."

"Arthur…please."

Merlin took a few steps toward Arthur, and Arthur took a few steps away, back toward the door. Arthur hated the pleading tone in Merlin's voice, hated that he was the cause of it. But he had to be firm about this. He had no other choice.

"Go, Merlin."

"I can't-"

"Go!" Arthur yelled, and he turned from Merlin and walked away, standing at the door and holding it open. "That's an order."

And Arthur knew Merlin would follow it.

He watched as Merlin walked toward the door, and when Merlin was next to him Arthur called his name.

"Merlin."

Merlin turned to him, looking like a lost little puppy again, but Arthur pushed his emotions aside. He had to do this; it's what was best for everyone.

"Remember when I told you I was indebted to you? Because of what you told me about Morgause? That hasn't changed. I _am _indebted to you, Merlin, and that's why I'm letting you go. But you must understand that you cannot return to Camelot. If you do, I will have you arrested."

Arthur watched tears form in Merlin's eyes, and he couldn't help but begin to let himself feel self-loathing at the fact that he was doing this to Merlin.

"I understand, sire."

"Merlin…I truly appreciate everything you have done for me. But you should not have kept this from me. I could have helped you."

"Helped me? How?"

"I…I don't know," Arthur answered, and on top of the self loathing he began to feel a soul wrenching sadness. "But I trusted you, Merlin. I wish you could have done the same."

Then Arthur watched as Merlin turned from him and walked out the door, and Arthur was glad to see him go, because that meant Merlin would not see the tears forming in his master's eyes.

Arthur closed the door behind him and leaned against it, sinking slowly down to the floor. Arthur wasn't angry anymore. Now he felt sad, scared, and mostly…hurt. But God did he wish he could be angry. Anger he could deal with; anger he could use. But this empty feeling, this hole in his chest…that was something he couldn't deal with.

…_tbc…_

_As always, reviews are love!  
_


	3. What Hurts the Most

**AN: **I'm REALLY sorry about the long wait, I can't apologize enough. Christmas season just kind of swallowed me whole. But I came out in the New Year ready and raring to go again. On the plus side, this chapter is a bit longer than the last one. Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, you are all awesome! Hope you all enjoy it, and sorry again for the delay!

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**Everything Is Never As It Seems**

**~~Chapter Two: What Hurts the Most~~**

Arthur didn't feel like he was afforded nearly enough time to brood over the events that had just occurred and caused his world to fall down around him. Before he knew it, guards were knocking at his door, calling for him with fear in their voices. Arthur had completely forgotten about the dead sorcerer on his floor and the spell that had put the entire castle to sleep.

The next twenty minutes passed in a blur.

He let the guards in, assuring them that he was fine. When they asked about the dead body on the floor, Arthur quickly came up with an explanation, but before he could give it, his father showed up with a retinue of Camelot's knights.

"Arthur, I'm so glad you're safe," Uther said as he hugged his son fiercely.

"You, too," Arthur replied, hugging him back.

They broke the embrace and his father smiled at him warmly. Before Arthur could say anything more, Uther's gaze fell to the floor, and his eyes locked on the dead body of the sorcerer.

"Is he the one who put the castle to sleep? Is he dead? What happened, Arthur?"

Uther moved away to examine the body, and Arthur told his father the lie he had come up with.

"I knew something was wrong when Merlin collapsed. I ran over to him to see if he was alive. He was fine, but in a deep sleep. That's when I noticed the guards were asleep outside as well. I knew someone or something must have put the castle under a spell. I grabbed a sword just as this sorcerer burst into the room, threatening to kill me, but I was ready for him. He started to mutter a spell, but I was faster, and he was dead before he could finish."

"And where is your servant now?"

"He was worried about Gaius, so I let him leave to go check on him."

Uther turned back to face his son, and he was smiling, his face beaming with pride.

"Well done, my son," he said, coming back to Arthur and giving him a congratulatory pat on the back.

"Thank you, father," Arthur replied.

As Uther went to reexamine the sorcerer with the knights in tow, as if to assure himself that he was really dead, Arthur marveled at how the lie had slid from his lips as smoothly as if it had been the truth. Arthur was both grateful and ashamed. Lying to his father may have been easy, but that didn't mean he felt good about it. Arthur wondered if he would have done it for anyone else…if he should have done it at all.

"There's one thing I don't understand, Arthur."

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. He knew it was too good to be true.

"Why didn't you fall asleep as well?"

Arthur let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. This one was easy.

"I believe that he wanted to see me struggle before I died. At least, that's the impression I got from him. He didn't have time to say much before I killed him, but I could tell he wanted me dead in the most painful way possible, and I think watching me struggle as I died would have been a nice bonus."

As Arthur said the words, he wondered at how true they were. He'd been wondering himself why the sorcerer had kept him awake. He'd thought the same thing he was telling his father at first, but the more he thought about it the more he wondered: was it because of Merlin? Merlin, after all, had not succumbed to the spell. Had being so close to Merlin's magic kept him awake?

Arthur knew it didn't matter much. Either way, Merlin had saved his life.

_Again_ apparently.

Uther must have finally decided that the sorcerer was dead, as he had some of the knights lift him and carry him out of the room. As his father turned back to him, Arthur realized that he needed to get out of this room. He needed to get away from his father and his knights, from the congratulations and pats on the back and looks of pride and admiration they were giving him. He just couldn't be around them with this giant lie hanging over his head.

"I'm going to see if Morgana's okay," Arthur said, coming up with a good excuse to leave.

"Of course," Uther replied, and Arthur turned around and left quickly.

As he walked down the hall, Arthur wondered at the enormous sense of guilt he felt. He just couldn't pin down what he was feeling guilty for. Was it for lying to his father? Was it for taking credit for a kill that was not his own?

Or was it guilt over making Merlin leave?

Arthur shook his head, refusing to consider that option. Of course he'd done the right thing. Merlin had _lied_ to him, after all. About being _a sorcerer_. In _Camelot_, where magic was strictly forbidden and punishable by death. Not only was Merlin better off not being here, where everyday was another opportunity for someone to find out about his magic, but Arthur was better off without Merlin.

He didn't need a liar for a servant.

Even considering everything Merlin had done for him, there was no way he could ever really trust Merlin again.

…Right?

* * *

Arthur continued to brood until he found himself outside Morgana's chambers, where he found the door ajar. He knocked, and when Morgana told him to, he let himself in.

He entered to find Morgana seated at her table, Gwen standing beside her. Arthur let his eyes roam over both of them, assuring himself that they were both alive and whole.

"I'm glad to see you're well, Arthur," said Morgana, and next to her, Gwen nodded. "Both of us," Morgana amended.

There was something rather formal, almost stiff, in the way Morgana said it, and Arthur could see something was bothering her, something more than just the sorcerer's spell.

"I'm glad to see you're safe as well…both of you," Arthur replied, continuing the awkwardly formal tone of the conversation.

The silence that followed was rather deafening. It seemed that the pleasantries were aside, and now they could get to the heart of the matter. But what on Earth-

"Merlin just stopped by."

Oh. That.

"Did he?" Arthur asked, forcing himself to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"He came to say goodbye. He said he was leaving for Ealdor, to see his mother."

"Did he?" repeated Arthur. He really _sucked_ at the pretending-not-to-care bit. It was a wonder he had been able to lie to his father so well.

"Yes," Morgana said, and her face took on a stony, almost accusatory look, as she continued. "He didn't say why he was going, but he seemed rather upset. Truth be told, I don't think I've ever seen him so distraught."

Arthur tore his gaze away from Morgana, not wanting to see the worry in her eyes.

"I offered that Gwen and I go with him. He didn't seem in a condition to be wandering off, particularly after what happened tonight. But he insisted that he was fine, and that we weren't to worry about him, and he took off before we could get anymore out of him."

Arthur continued to keep his gaze averted while Morgana spoke, and in doing so he caught a glimpse outside.

His heart sank.

He moved closer to the window as Gwen spoke up for the first time.

"We're worried about him," she stated simply. "We don't think he should be alone, especially not in this weather."

Arthur stared out the window. He'd been so caught up that he hadn't noticed the storm brewing outside. Dark clouds hung over the castle and the woods beyond. Small drops of rain were beginning to fall, and far away over the treetops Arthur caught a brief flash of lightning, followed a few seconds later by a peal of thunder.

"We were hoping you could tell us what's bothering him," Morgana said, a hint of accusation in her voice.

Why did Morgana _always_ have to assume that he was the reason people were upset? Why did she always have to _know?_

Arthur rolled his eyes.

It looked like he'd have to come up with another lie.

"Merlin's been feeling…homesick for awhile. He was talking recently about going to visit his mother. The attack tonight…I think it really shook him. I told him that if he still wanted to go to Ealdor, he should go. I think he needed a break from all the action around here, and now seemed like as good a time as any to let him have it."

He continued to stare through the glass, watching the rain fall.

"Arthur."

It seemed as though Morgana wasn't going to just let this go.

Arthur turned to face her.

"What is it, Morgana?" he asked rather tersely.

Morgana got up from the table and took a few tentative steps toward him.

"You're sure…you're sure there's nothing else going on?"

"Why?" Arthur replied defensively. "Why would there be anything else going on here?"

"It's just that…when we asked if you were okay, Merlin kind of…shut down. He wouldn't say much, just that you were fine and he had to leave. He was acting…strange. Stranger than usual, anyway."

"What do you want me to say, Morgana? That Merlin's acting weird even for Merlin? He's just stressed. That's all. Falling under a spell will do that to a person." Arthur tried to keep calm, but he was starting to lose his temper.

"I know," Morgana said softly, her voice more soothing as she came closer to him. "It's just that…stranger things have happened, right? Why would tonight be any different?"

"How should I know?!" Arthur stated loudly, tossing his hands in the air in frustration. "Did he say anything else to you, because you seem to know more about his behavior than I do!"

"No," Morgana answered quietly, taking a step back. "I just-"

Arthur lost it.

"How should I know what's bothering him? It's not like he ever tells me anything important! Always keeping secrets. Why would he tell me anything when he obviously doesn't trust me!"

"Arthur-"

"So Merlin wanted to leave. Why should I care? What use is a moody, miserable, homesick child to me anyway? I don't need him. I'll find a new servant, one who's not such an insufferable idiot!"

"Arthur!" Morgana sounded shocked, and Arthur looked over to see tears in Gwen's eyes.

Once again, he had said too much. Arthur Foot-in-his-Mouth Pendragon.

He took a deep breath, letting go of his anger as he breathed out.

He couldn't face the looks that the girls were giving him. Sadness, confusion, pity. He could feel them judging him with their eyes, and he didn't need it.

"I have to go," he said shortly, and he headed past Morgana and Gwen to the door.

"Arthur."

Gwen's voice caused him to pause, but he didn't turn around.

"I thought you were friends," she said quietly, and the sound of a broken hope in her voice made his heart shatter for reasons he neither wanted to acknowledge or understand.

"So did I."

He hadn't meant to say it, hadn't wanted to admit to it, but there it was.

And as he couldn't stand their judging eyes boring into his soul anymore, he left the two women without another word.

* * *

Arthur sat at his table, his dinner forgotten and growing cold on the plate before him. And to think a few hours ago he'd been starving. Now the thought of eating made him physically ill.

He got up and went to the window. He'd been pacing like this for he didn't know how long, knowing he should go to sleep but feeling entirely too restless. He stared out the window at the night sky. Rain pelted the glass, making it hard for him to see. The wind moaned and thunder crashed as lightning lit up the sky over the forest. Through a break in the rain, he thought he saw small pieces of hail crashing in the courtyard below.

Arthur cursed out loud and forced himself away from the window. He collapsed on his bed, lay back against the pillows, and rubbed at his eyes. And that's where he was five minutes later when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Arthur answered.

"Sire?"

Arthur sighed, removed his hand from his face, and sat up. Of all the people Arthur did _not_ want to see, Gaius was at the top of the list.

"What is it, Gaius?"

The court physician stepped into the room, closing the door behind him tentatively.

"Sire," Gaius began again, then stopped. It seemed Arthur wasn't the only one at a loss for words today.

Arthur decided that the sooner they had this little chat over with the sooner Gaius would leave and the sooner Arthur could go back to…whatever it was he was doing, without the added scrutiny of Merlin's father figure looming over him.

"What did Merlin tell you?" Arthur asked, needing to know just how much Gaius knew about what was going on.

"Merlin left a few hours ago," Gaius answered. "He told me how the sorcerer tried to kill you. In light of all that has happened tonight, I feel I owe you the truth."

_Great_, Arthur thought to himself. More confessions, just what he needed.

Suddenly, Arthur knew why Gaius was here. It was so obvious.

"You knew, didn't you?" Arthur asked. Of course Gaius would have known; he was practically Merlin's adoptive father. "You knew that Merlin was a…." He still couldn't say it out loud. It still sounded ridiculous. It still…hurt.

"Yes. I've known since the first day Merlin moved to Camelot and began working for me."

There it was again, that feeling that made his chest ache. It was like Merlin had taken a small piece of Arthur away with him when he walked out the door, leaving a Merlin-shaped hole in its place. The fact that Gaius had known from the very beginning and Arthur had only found out tonight, by accident...the fact that Merlin had felt he could confide in Gaius but not his prince…there was no way around it: Arthur Pendragon was jealous. Arthur hadn't thought he could be more hurt by Merlin's betrayal, but now…the hurt and jealously were overwhelming, and Arthur was both surprised and terrified by the strength of his emotions.

"Fine," Arthur replied, unsure of what else to say.

"Sire-"

"I'm not going to turn you in, if that's what you're here about," Arthur interrupted him. "I can't tell anyone what you know without implicating Merlin. And I can't turn you out of the kingdom without raising my father's suspicions." It was true: the fact that Gaius knew would just have to stay buried.

"That's not what I came for."

'Then why are you here?"

"I haven't come on my own behalf. I've come on Merlin's behalf…and yours."

Okay, _now_ he was confused. Arthur stood up from the bed and stepped closer to Gaius.

"My behalf? What are you-"

"May I ask you something, sire?"

"I...." Arthur stopped. Where was Gaius going with this? "Go ahead."

"I know you're upset with Merlin, and I understand. You have every right to be angry. But I think you should understand _why_ you are upset. I think you will be better able to cope with your feelings if you understand them."

Typical Gaius, always trying to talk things through. As if just talking about problems could help to fix them.

"All right then. Say what you have to say, by all means." Once again, he was trying to sound nonchalant, as if he couldn't really care less about what Gaius had to say to him. But try as he might, Arthur couldn't deny that a small part of him wanted to hear Gaius out.

"I just want you to consider why you are angry with Merlin. Are you angry because of _what_ he lied about, or are you angry that he lied?"

Arthur was floored. He didn't know what to think. The question made his head hurt.

Gaius must have seen the confusion on his face, as he tried to explain himself better.

"What I mean to ask is this: are you angry that Merlin is a sorcerer, or are you angry that he kept it from you?"

Arthur let the words sink in, and he was amazed to find that Gaius made a good distinction between the two. Was he mad that Merlin was a sorcerer? He knew he should be, but after everything that Merlin had done for him…Arthur just wasn't sure anymore. Now that Gaius mentioned it, the fact that Merlin was a sorcerer did not hurt nearly as much as the fact that Merlin had kept it from him. Now that he thought about it, he didn't feel betrayed by Merlin's use of magic…he felt betrayed by Merlin. And that was what really hurt.

As Arthur pondered this, Gaius posed him another question.

"More importantly, are you angry that he kept it from you, or are you angry that he didn't feel he could trust you?"

Arthur frowned. This question was harder. Mostly Arthur just wondered:

"Is there a difference?"

Gaius smiled at him, and Arthur was surprised to see a look of warmth in the old man's eyes.

"That's for you to decide, sire. But I think, in the end, it makes all the difference in the world."

Arthur looked down at the floor and began to pace slightly as he thought about Gaius' words. This one would take a lot more work to figure out. But the more he thought about it, the more obvious it seemed to him. Gaius was right. The fact that Merlin was a sorcerer wasn't what hurt, nor was it the fact that Merlin had kept it from him. What it really came down to was _trust_. Arthur was hurt because Merlin hadn't trusted him enough to share this secret with him.

And just when Arthur thought Gaius couldn't read his mind anymore if he tried…

"Perhaps you're also angry that you proved him right."

Arthur stopped his pacing and turned to stare at Gaius, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Excuse me?" There was no way he had heard him properly.

"After your reaction tonight, it seems that perhaps Merlin was right not to trust you."

No, he had heard him correctly.

"You're out of line, Gaius," Arthur warned, feeling his anger building up.

"I mean no disrespect, sire," Gaius replied politely, bowing slightly in supplication. "I'm not passing judgment on you, nor do I mean to imply that you acted wrongly."

"But that's what you think, isn't it?" Arthur asked, and he was surprised to find that he was suddenly desperate for an answer. "You don't think I did the right thing in sending Merlin away." His voice grew higher, louder, more desperate, and he moved closer to Gaius. "You aren't saying this to make me feel better. You want me to feel bad for sending Merlin away, so that I'll ask him to come back."

"That is not my intent."

"But you _do_ think I made a mistake sending Merlin away, right?" Arthur was inches away from Gaius and beginning to fail at keeping the hysteria out of his voice.

Gaius didn't answer him, and Arthur couldn't really blame him. It would have to be tough to tell the prince he was wrong, though considering that Gaius had been very straightforward up until this point, why was he backing down now?

"It's all right," Arthur said quietly, forcing himself to calm down so as not to scare Gaius as much as he was scaring himself. "I just want the truth. Whatever it is. Please." His voice shook slightly on the last word.

"I think you know how I feel, sire. What's more important is how _you_ feel."

Arthur groaned in frustration. Why couldn't he get a real answer out of Gaius? How could he be so straightforward about his opinions in such a roundabout way? It was maddening. Arthur knew exactly how the physician felt, but it seemed, to Gaius anyway, that that wasn't the point. So Arthur was forced, once again, to answer a hard question: did he regret sending Merlin away?

After a moment's thought, Arthur felt like an idiot. This wasn't a hard question; it was the easiest question of all. At least, the question was easy to answer, but the answer was hard to admit to. It was the question that, deep down, he already knew the answer to.

Did he regret sending Merlin away?

He'd been regretting it since Merlin stepped out the door.

But did that really mean he should bring Merlin back? Arthur still felt hurt and betrayed, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon. Besides, would Merlin really ever be safe in Camelot?

Arthur suddenly felt very tired, and he felt his shoulders slump as he let out a long, slow sigh. He turned from Gaius and walked to the window, looking once again out into the night.

The wind was howling. He couldn't see a thing through the rain streaked glass. How could he have missed the storm getting so much worse?

Gaius broke him out of his trance.

"I apologize if I have said too much or spoken out of turn. As I said before, I only wish to help. I know you have a lot on your mind, and I understand. All I ask is that you think about what I've said. Merlin may have lied, but he always had your best interests at heart."

Arthur didn't answer, but continued to stare out the window.

"Goodnight, sire."

In the reflection of the glass, Arthur saw Gaius turn to leave.

"Wait," Arthur said hastily, turning around.

Gaius stopped and turned back to him, a rather obnoxious, knowing smile on his face. Arthur had heard about Gaius' particular ability to know exactly what to say and how to say it, to know just what people needed to hear, and to be slightly self-satisfied when he got his point across. This was the first time Arthur had experienced it personally.

"I…."

Gaius looked at him expectantly, warmly, not a hint of passing judgment in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said, and though it sounded rather lame it was the best he could do.

Gaius bowed to him. "You're welcome."

And with that he was gone, leaving Arthur to pull a chair up to the window, alone once again with his thoughts.

Arthur was not going to fall asleep anytime soon.

…_tbc…_


	4. Nobody's Fault But Mine

**AN:** I'm REALLY sorry it's taken me so long to update this story. I think that part of what drives me to write is new episodes, and when the hiatus came I lost my mojo. But new episodes are on (YES!) and I'm eager to finish this. Expect the next chapter within a week, and the epilogue not long after that. Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, everyone who's decided to stick with me, and anyone who's starting this story for the first time. You guys are the best. :)

* * *

**Everything Is Never As It Seems**

**~~Chapter Three: Nobody's Fault But Mine~~**

Lightning struck overhead, and in the brief flash of light Merlin could almost make out the path in front of him through the driving rain. He shivered as the wind picked up, blowing water in his face, obscuring his vision and practically drowning him. Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and Merlin jumped as thunder rumbled right above him. He scrubbed his hand across his face and continued walking.

Merlin wondered, not for the first time that night, if he'd made a mistake leaving Camelot so hastily. He could easily have waited until morning. After all, Arthur hadn't actually said he had to leave that night. But he hadn't wanted to draw anything out. The longer he stopped to think about what had happened, the worse he felt. Merlin couldn't help it, but he felt ashamed. He knew full well that all he needed was a few well spoken words and he could keep himself warm and dry as he traveled. But he didn't want to. Merlin didn't want to use magic ever again. He'd learned to tolerate his magic, to use it for good, but he'd never really been truly comfortable with using it. He'd never been comfortable keeping it from people, especially Arthur. When Arthur had told him to get out, Merlin had made the decision to leave more than Camelot behind him. And after all, without Arthur's life to protect, without his destiny, Merlin didn't really have a use for magic anymore.

He pulled his traveling cloak tighter to him, trying to keep out the rain and failing miserably. Merlin had hoped to be closer to Ealdor by now, but the rain, which had started up as soon as he reached the woods, had made it impossible for him to keep a torch or anything lit long enough to guide him in the dark. He knew he'd have to stop soon; he couldn't keep going for long in the cold and the dark.

Finally, a particularly long flash of lightning illuminated a clearing ahead of him, and Merlin recognized it as one that he, Gwen, and Morgana had come through on their way to save Ealdor from Kanen and his men. As he stepped into the clearing, the moon peeked out from behind the clouds for just a second, but it was enough for Merlin to be able to make out a small cave nestled on the left hand side of the clearing, just where he remembered it being.

He couldn't believe his luck. He picked up the pace as he headed toward the cave, eager to find shelter from the bitter wind and biting rain.

When he reached the middle of the clearing, he stopped. Someone, or something, was watching him from the trees. He couldn't see it, but he could feel a presence. And not just any presence: Merlin felt his heart stop and his blood run cold at the feeling of magic stirring on the other side of the trees.

Before he could react, a giant, dark form slammed into him, knocking him flat onto his back. He heard a low growl, felt hot breath on his face. A wolf. But it wasn't just any wolf. It was imbued with magic. Whether it was possessed or created by magic, Merlin didn't have time to wonder. He only had time to scream in pain as the wolf's giant teeth tore into his shoulder.

Merlin felt magic explode out of him against his will, and the creature flew across the clearing and slammed into a tree. Merlin stumbled to his feet, cradling his hurt shoulder to his chest. Blood was poring copiously from the wound, and he could feel himself losing energy fast. The wolf got to its feet and stared him down, and Merlin knew he had to think fast. But instead, he froze up. He'd told himself he wasn't going to use magic anymore. He couldn't. He'd been weak before, allowing his magic to take control of him, acting on instinct. But he had to be stronger than that. He had control over himself. _He _was the one who decided when and where he used his magic. And he had decided he wasn't going to use it anymore. He wasn't going to let it take control of him. He wasn't going to let Arthur down. He had to find another way to fight this creature.

Unfortunately, his moment of hesitation was all that the wolf needed to strike again. Merlin caught a flash of gold in the wolf's eyes before it was on top of him. He felt the monster tear into him, and time slowed down. The pain was intolerable. His vision blurred at the edges, and as the world dimmed around him, Merlin could feel himself dying.

Visions flashed before his eyes, and it was in what he felt sure was his last moment that he remembered the knife Arthur had given him. Ever since Merlin had started his duties as Arthur's manservant, he had been in training with him. Needless to say, he sucked pretty royally with a sword. During one of their more emotional training sessions, Merlin had nearly driven a sword into his own foot, and he'd thrown it aside angrily, threatening to never pick up a sword again. It was then that Arthur had shown one of his earliest and rarest moments of kindness. It was one of the first times Arthur had really opened up to him.

"_Believe it or not, Merlin, I wasn't always the strong, handsome, extraordinarily talented fighter that you see before you."_

_Merlin rolled his eyes and was going to laugh before the look on Arthur's face caused him to pause. He didn't look angry. He actually looked…sad?_

"_When I first started training, I was pathetic. I could barely hold a sword, much less figure out how to use it without injuring myself. I was frustrated, like you are. What kind of prince doesn't know how to handle a weapon? But my father told me that what I needed to do was start out small. So he gave me this."_

_Arthur opened his wardrobe and he pulled a small box from the top shelf. It was dusty, but under all the dust Merlin could see that it was worth more money than he was likely to see in his lifetime. Arthur opened the lid, and inside was a small dagger and leather sheath. Arthur took it out, stabbing the air with it a few times aimlessly, lost in thought._

"_He told me to start practicing with this, and that with time I'd be able to handle larger weapons. This was the first blade I ever practiced with. I think that if it helped me, it might be able to help you." Arthur put the dagger in its fine sheath and held it out to Merlin. _

_Merlin was floored. He'd never received something so nice, much less something that clearly meant so much to someone else. And from _Arthur_ of all people. He hesitated at first, afraid to take it._

"_It's a gift, Merlin. Show some appreciation," Arthur said, and Merlin was surprised to find that, despite the annoyed tone, Arthur was smiling at him almost _fondly_, which was all Merlin needed._

"_Thank you, sire," he said, taking the dagger from Arthur and bowing._

"_Don't mention it," Arthur replied, and he slapped Merlin on the back hard, knocking him to the floor and completely ruining the moment. "Now let me show you how to use that thing."_

Ever since that day, Merlin had kept the dagger on his person at all times. He usually kept it hidden. For some reason, he'd never really wanted Arthur to know he still clung to it; he didn't want Arthur to know how much it meant to him. He was still crap with a sword, but the dagger had helped him considerably at first, and beyond that the gift simply meant a good deal to Merlin. It was a symbol of their friendship…or at least the friendship they used to have.

Merlin could feel the comforting weight of the dagger in his cloak pocket. As the wolf sat up to deliver what he knew would be the killing blow, Merlin gathered the last bit of strength he had and, fighting the pain in his arm, he reached into his pocket, pulled out the knife, and stabbed it hard into the side of the wolf's head.

The creature let out a low, quiet whine. Merlin watched the golden glow leave the monster's eyes, and he saw a brief flash of blue before the wolf collapsed dead on top of him.

Merlin lay panting on the ground, soaked through, drenched and drowning in mud, water, and his own blood. He had no idea how long he lay there. Time seemed to slow down around him. But as he felt himself passing out, he knew he should try to at least get out of the rain.

He pushed the dead wolf off of him. Slowly, agonizingly, he crawled through the mud in the direction of the cave. He moaned in pain as his body, torn to shreds by the wolf's teeth and claws, cried out in protest.

By the time he makes it to the cave, he can no longer see. He only knows he is inside because he no longer feels the rain pounding relentlessly on his body. Actually, he no longer feels much of anything. He shivers from the cold. He feels himself losing consciousness. He has just enough strength left to whisper Arthur's name, and the last thing he thinks before darkness claims him is _I wish I had said goodbye._

_

* * *

A flash of light…thunder…pounding rain. So dark. And the cold…biting, piercing cold._

_Another flash of light, and this time a cave. She starts toward it._

_A low growl. Bright, glowing, golden eyes._

Pain. _Mind numbing pain. Blood pours from her body. Something shoots out of her, and the creature flies away from her, but before she can run it's back on top of her, tearing into her body. She doesn't know where she finds the strength, but she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a knife. The creature howls and dies, crushing her under its dead weight._

_Blood everywhere. Pouring out. Too much, too fast. She's losing strength, can't feel anything but _pain_ as she drags herself into the cave and passes out._

_She feels herself fading, when suddenly she is torn away from the cave floor. But in a last flash of light, she is able to make out the figure huddled and dying on the cold hard ground._

_Merlin._

_It's not me, it's Merlin. Merlin…_

_Merlin!_

"NO!"

Morgana screamed as she bolted upright in bed, breathing heavily, drenched in sweat. Her eyes scanned the room. She was safe in bed. Outside the wind howled, thunder cracked, and trees groaned under the weight of what seemed like the sky falling to Earth but was really just rain.

She lay in bed panting, the awful nightmare replaying itself in her head. Only she knew it wasn't just a nightmare. This didn't feel like her typical bad dream. Deep down inside she knew that this was real.

Merlin was in trouble.

She didn't allow herself time to feel terrified about the fact that, once again, she was seeing things she shouldn't be able to see. She was terrified, all right, but only about one thing.

Merlin.

* * *

CRASH!

Arthur woke to a thunderous racket outside his window. It sounded like a massive tree had been uprooted and crashed to the ground. And just when he had finally fallen asleep, too.

Arthur sat up, rubbing at his eyes as he got out of bed and headed toward the window, looking outside. Tree branches and other debris littered the floor of the courtyard below him. The world outside was falling apart, just like his own life was crumbling around him.

Arthur shook his head as he shuffled back to bed, crawling under the covers. He doubted he'd be able to fall asleep again, but staring out the window was making him nervous. He closed his eyes and sighed.

BANG!

Arthur shot up in bed, stifling what would have been a decidedly unmanly scream as his door slammed open. Instinct told him to get out of bed and find a sword, but before he had a chance to he heard Morgana calling out to him.

"Arthur!"

Arthur got out of bed and met her halfway across his bedroom. She crashed into his arms, shivering and sweaty, shaking like a leaf.

"Morgana, what's wrong?" Arthur asked with concern.

"It's Merlin!"

Arthur felt his heart fall into his stomach.

"What are you-?"

"Merlin's in danger, Arthur. Right now. He's dying. Somewhere…in the forest…"

She was hyperventilating, trying to choke the words out through her panic.

"Where?" Arthur asked, trying to stem his own rising sense of panic. He wondered at the fact that he wasn't even questioning how she could possibly know this.

"He was on his way home, to Ealdor. He's…he's in a cave. Somewhere between here and there. I don't know exactly. Arthur, you have to help him! He doesn't have much time! Arthur-"

She had barely finished speaking before Arthur was throwing on his clothes. Strangely enough, he knew the cave she was talking about. He remembered passing a cave that night he had followed Merlin, Morgana, and Gwen on their way to Ealdor.

"Did you have another nightmare?" Arthur asked, fumbling with his pants.

"Yes. I saw the whole thing. For I second I was…he was attacked by a wolf. But it wasn't just a wolf. It was…it was possessed or something. It attacked him, and he fought it off, but it wounded him. He's dying. He's not…he's not going to…"

Arthur could tell she was fighting back tears, and he wanted to comfort her. He didn't know much about Morgana's dreams. All he knew was that the last time she had come to him like this she had told him he was in danger, and then he had almost died. He'd been having misgivings about sending Merlin away all night, and now it sounded like his bad feelings had not been unwarranted.

He threw on the last of his clothes and rushed to her side.

"He's not going to die, Morgana. I'm not going to let him. I promise." Arthur was surprised to find that while his voice was shaking, he felt a strong sense of conviction. He was _not_ going to let Merlin die. He was going to save him.

He had to.

He kissed Morgana quickly on the forehead and hurried out of the room, heading toward the stables.

It was his fault Merlin was in danger, and Arthur was going to do his damndest to bring him back.

* * *

Arthur rode quickly through the forest, ignoring the freezing wind, the crashing thunder and the falling trees. Someone somewhere must have been looking out for him, because the rain that had been pouring all night had finally abated, and though the wind was blowing too fiercely for him to keep a torch lit, the moon and stars were high overhead, and they afforded him enough light to see his way through the trees. He followed a path that he remembered surprisingly well considering he had only traveled it twice. When he considered it later, Arthur would admit to himself that it felt as if he was being led to Merlin by a strange force, as though Merlin had been silently calling out to him, leading him. But at the moment, he had only one thing on his mind.

Getting to Merlin.

On time.

Before he…

No, he wasn't going to let himself consider that option. It just wasn't going to happen. Arthur would get to him on time.

He had to.

After what seemed like forever, Arthur saw the trees thinning ahead of him, and he found himself in the clearing where he knew the cave to be. He jumped off his horse and ran toward it, his heart pounding in his chest.

He practically fell over Merlin before he actually saw him. Arthur crashed to the ground, catching himself before he could land on top of him. Gently, he turned Merlin onto his back, and he felt warm, wet liquid ooze onto his hands.

Lightning flashed suddenly overhead, and bile rose in Arthur's throat as he got a good look at Merlin: unconscious, pale…and drenched in blood. He gagged at the sight, but quickly regained composure. He had to get Merlin back to Camelot. Now.

Arthur left Merlin and hurried back to his horse, grabbing his bag. He ran back to the cave and lit a torch, wasting precious time because his hands were shaking so much from a mixture of exhaustion, cold, and nerves. Finally, the torch was lit, and Arthur found some bandages and proceeded to wrap Merlin's wounds. He didn't do the best job ever, but Arthur just needed to stem the blood loss long enough to get Merlin back to Camelot, where Gaius could treat him better.

When he was done, Arthur gently lifted Merlin off the ground and carried him outside as quickly as he could. He tossed Merlin's legs over the horse and laid him facedown gently against the horse's mane. Arthur swung his legs up and pulled Merlin into a sitting position before leaning him back against his chest. Cradling Merlin close to him in a strong grip, Arthur started for home. He heard Merlin moan softly, the motion of the horse's gallop jarring him, and Arthur felt a small glimmer of hope. Merlin was unconscious, but he was still alive. Arthur was going to save him.

He had to.

"It's all right, Merlin. I've got you."

As Arthur headed back to Camelot, holding Merlin close to him and refusing to think about the possibility of not getting there in time, one thought replayed itself over and over in Arthur's head, no matter how much he tried to stop it.

_This is all my fault._

_tbc…_


	5. I've Come to Take You Home

**AN: **Sorry for the delay in finishing this. Writer's block is the worst. Luckily when season 4 started, I found my muse again. Everything I wanted to do is still in here, but its more expanded and more thought out than it would have been a year ago. I have the last two chapters done and the epilogue half finished, so I will complete this within a week or two. Thanks to everyone who's read so far and to everyone who still wants to see how it ends. :)

* * *

**Everything Is Never As It Seems**

**~~Chapter Four: I've Come to Take You Home~~**

"Gaius!"

Arthur flung open the door, carrying Merlin's limp body close to him. He flew into Gaius' chambers, panting heavily. It was dark in the room, but by the light of the moon shining in through the window, he could see the physician sound asleep in bed.

"Gaius!" Arthur screamed, and he slammed the door behind him.

Gaius flew up in bed, mumbling incoherently at the intrusion and looking around in fear. His eyes fell on Arthur, and he relaxed slightly.

"My Lord, what-"

"It's Merlin," Arthur said. He stepped into the moonlight, where Gaius could see Merlin lying unconscious in the prince's arms.

"No," Gaius whispered.

"Help him, Gaius. Please," Arthur begged, his voice breaking on the last word.

Gaius shook the last vestiges of sleep off quickly, suddenly wide awake.

"Put him on the bed," he said, getting out of his cot and motioning to it.

Arthur hurried over and lay Merlin down carefully. As Gaius bustled about the room lighting candles so he could see, Arthur readjusted Merlin's bandages, blanching at the amount of blood that had still managed to seep out of the wounds in Merlin's chest and shoulder.

"What happened?" Gaius asked, kneeling down next to Merlin and slowly removing the bandages.

"Morgana told me she…she told me Merlin was in trouble. I went out to look for him, and I found him in a cave. He was attacked by something in the woods, I couldn't stop the bleeding. He…is he going to die, Gaius?" Arthur asked, and he turned to the physician.

"Not if I can help it, Sire," Gaius replied, and he stood up to root around the room for the supplies he would need.

Arthur turned back to his servant and gently laid his hand on Merlin's forehead. Merlin had seemed cold as ice when they were outside. Now, safe from the wind and the rain, Arthur could feel the fever burning in Merlin's body.

"He's burning up," Arthur fretted.

"I know," Gaius replied, kneeling down next to him again. As he began to work, Arthur stood and started pacing, his eyes never leaving Merlin. When Gaius got the bandages off, and Arthur could see the full extent of the damage to Merlin's body, he had to look away.

"This is all my fault," Arthur whispered.

"Don't blame yourself, Sire. You couldn't have known what would happen."

"I shouldn't have let Merlin leave tonight. I shouldn't have let him leave at all. I should've-"

"Arthur, I need fresh water, and towels."

It was Gaius calling him "Arthur" that snapped the prince back to reality.

"Of course." Arthur grabbed towels from a nearby cupboard and passed them to Gaius before seizing the water bucket and hurrying out of the room. If anyone could save Merlin, it was Gaius. Arthur just hoped that he'd gotten Merlin home in time.

Over the next hour or so, Gaius cleaned, sutured, and bandaged. Though the physician wouldn't come out and say it, Arthur knew that things did not look good for Merlin. His wounds were numerous and deep, and he had lost a lot of blood. Still, Gaius did his best to treat him while Arthur paced the room nervously, his eyes always on Merlin.

When Gaius declared that he had done all he could, Arthur carefully moved Merlin upstairs to his own bed, wrapped him in blankets, and set a chair next to him.

And that's where Arthur stayed throughout the early morning, the afternoon, and well into the next night.

Naturally, Gaius was in and out all day, cleaning, bandaging, and sitting at Merlin's side. He also continued to administer medicine to fight off the infection that had set in. As Merlin fought off the fever, Arthur replaced sweat soaked blankets and gently patted Merlin's forehead with a cool cloth.

During the course of the day, others came to visit. A few of the knights came to check up on Arthur when he didn't show up for training. Though many of them marveled over how distraught Arthur seemed over a mere servant, a few of them, the ones who spent more time with Merlin and Arthur, weren't surprised to see the concern in their prince's eyes.

Gwen and Morgana arrived in the morning. They offered to relieve Arthur, and though Arthur refused to leave, he allowed them to spend some time applying cool cloths to Merlin's chest, legs, and arms.

Around sunset, when Gwen and Morgana left to get Arthur some dinner, the strangest visitor of all arrived. Uther looked at his son in wonder, seeming as though he wanted to say something. However, though confusion, awe, and a hint of judgment were clear in his eyes, the king showed a rare moment of tact and didn't say a word. Instead, he laid his hand on his son's shoulder, gave it a gentle squeeze, and left the room quietly.

When Gwen and Morgana returned with food, Arthur refused to eat…that is, until he saw the looks on their faces. Then he ate what little he could stomach, which wasn't much, before turning his attention back to Merlin.

Around midnight, though Merlin's fever had yet to go down, it didn't seem to be getting any worse. Finally, Gwen and Morgana retired to bed. Gaius administered a last dose of medicine and bandages, and, after failing to convince Arthur to get some sleep, retired to bed himself.

Arthur had been quiet all day. He'd barely said a word to anyone, which for him was a pretty astounding feat. Arthur smiled at the thought of what Merlin would think of the silent prince. He would never believe that Arthur had spent a whole day with his mouth shut. Just picturing the look of disbelief on Merlin's face was enough to make Arthur laugh out loud.

The laugh broke Arthur out of his stupor. Sitting quietly with Merlin wasn't going to help him get better. Merlin always needed a stern talking to before he would do what Arthur said, and even _that_ was never a guarantee that Merlin would listen. So for the first time in hours, Arthur spoke. And once he started…well, as usual, there was no stopping him.

"I know you think I'm a prat, Merlin. And maybe…maybe now I'm inclined to believe you. I did something really stupid the other night. Making you leave Camelot…it wasn't the right decision. Or at least…I made it too hastily. I shouldn't have acted so quickly. I should have let you stay while I spent some time trying to figure out an alternative. Because I realized something after you left. I wasn't mad at you because you were practicing magic. I was mad because…because you had kept it from me. Because you felt like you couldn't tell me. And now…well, now I'm mad at myself, because I proved you right. You were right not to trust me, Merlin. Look how I treated you when I found out. It wasn't fair of me to act so rashly, and you didn't deserve it. All this time…all this time you've had my back. Even when I didn't know it, even when I didn't deserve it. _Especially_ when I didn't deserve it."

Arthur paused for a moment, tears welling up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Not until he had said everything he wanted to say.

"We'll work this out, Merlin. You don't have to leave Camelot. I don't care what it takes. I'll take your secret to the grave. Because I'm still indebted to you, Merlin. I'm sorry for what I said to you the other night, and for the way I acted."

A stray tear made its way out of Arthur's eye, and he swiped at it quickly before it could fall.

"You're a terrible servant. But you're a good man…and a good friend. You need to get better, Merlin."

Arthur paused, hoping that somewhere in Merlin's feverish brain he was listening to this. He picked up a cool cloth and gently dabbed at Merlin's forehead, and when Arthur heard Merlin let out a low moan, he felt a small glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Merlin had heard him.

Arthur removed the cloth and then, very lightly, slapped his friend on the shoulder.

"You _will _get better, Merlin. That's an order."

* * *

Arthur wasn't aware of falling asleep. One minute he was staring at Merlin, berating himself for perhaps the millionth time for acting so rashly; for kicking Merlin out of Camelot in an overly emotional, childish tantrum the likes of which only he could achieve.

The next minute Arthur jerked awake, his heart pounding and his muscles cramping from the awkward position he must have fallen asleep in. He massaged his sore neck muscles, unsure of what had woken him up.

Then he heard Merlin scream.

Arthur scrambled up out of the chair and leaned over Merlin's bed. By the light of the very dim candle, he could see Merlin drenched in sweat, thrashing and panting and crying out, trapped in the depths of a nightmare.

He felt Merlin's forehead. He was hotter than he'd been the last time Arthur had checked on him. Much hotter.

Arthur took a fresh towel from the bedside table, dipped it in the water bucket, and gently patted down Merlin's face and neck. Merlin moaned in his sleep, the water soothing his feverish skin.

_This is good, right? _Arthur thought to himself. _This means he's getting better, sweating out the fever._

Arthur turned away, ready to go wake Gaius, when Merlin spoke.

"Arthur?"

"Merlin?"

Arthur leaned over the bed again. Merlin was tossing and turning, his eyes closed, caught in the throes of a nightmare.

"Arthur…"

"Merlin, wake up!"

Arthur grabbed Merlin's shoulders and gently shook him.

"Arthur…help me…"

"I'm here, Merlin. You just have to wake up."

He shook him harder, afraid of hurting him but also wanting to save him from whatever imaginary horrors were plaguing him.

"No…no…"

Merlin just continued to toss, mumbling and groaning softly, his skin on fire.

Then he let out a blood curdling scream.

"NO!"

Arthur lost it.

"Merlin! Wake up, you idiot!"

He smacked Merlin in the face.

He was about to regret his actions when Merlin's eyes opened and he stopped thrashing. He continued to pant softly as he stared up at the prince.

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Merlin, it's me."

"You…where am I?"

He looked around the room, trembling slightly. His voice was weary and his eyes were glazed over, seeing but not seeing. Arthur had seen the symptoms before: Merlin was caught tight in the grips of a feverish haze. Chances were he'd be unable to get a grasp on anything, and whatever happened now would most likely be forgotten by morning.

"You're home, Merlin."

"Home? I don't…home…Ealdor…"

"No, Merlin. Camelot. I found you in the woods and I brought you home."

Arthur kept saying that word, hoping Merlin could use it as something to hold on to, to pull himself through the rage of fever.

"Camelot…right. I was…in a cave. I remember…cold…dying…there was a wolf."

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. A wolf. Just like in Morgana's dream. Arthur didn't know how she'd done it, but once again Morgana had seen something she shouldn't have known about. But that didn't matter so much to Arthur right now, because if Merlin lived – and Arthur had every intention of making sure that happened – he would have Morgana to thank.

Merlin's eyes slipped shut and he moaned again.

Arthur picked up the wet cloth from where it had fallen on the floor and reapplied it to Merlin's forehead, gently smoothing his creased brow.

"Relax, Merlin. It's all right. You're safe now."

"Safe…that wolf…Arthur, it was so strong…possessed, or driven by…something else."

"Something else?"

Morgana had mentioned possession, too.

"Golden eyes…someone was…but I killed it. No magic. Took my knife…"

Merlin made stabbing motions in the air.

"A knife? You didn't use magic?" Arthur asked.

Arthur hadn't found any weapons on Merlin. He'd figured Merlin had used magic. Any knife Merlin had used must still be in that clearing.

Merlin shook his head. "No magic. Dagger. One you gave me."

Arthur knew the one he meant. He'd given it to Merlin in a rare fit of gallantry, hoping to raise his servant's spirits. He had no idea Merlin still carried it.

"Stabbed it. But when it died it…something…something left it…fled…I don't know where…it's still out there, whatever it is…still out there…coming for me…"

Merlin trailed off, eyes wide and staring at nothing, still trembling.

So whatever had possessed the wolf was still out there somewhere? Arthur didn't like the sound of that. It had to be related to the sorcerer Merlin had killed. It was too much of a coincidence.

But Merlin shouldn't have to dwell on that now.

"It's all right," Arthur said again. He rubbed the cloth over Merlin's face once more, then his neck and his arms, while he tried to calm him down. "You're home now, in Camelot. You're safe. Sleep, Merlin. Nothing's going to hurt you here."

Merlin smiled sleepily, and Arthur felt some of the tension ebb from Merlin's body as he sighed and leaned back into the pillows. Arthur figured he was ready to drop back to sleep.

Until…

"I called to you. Helped you find me."

Arthur paused in his mindless ministrations and put the cloth down on Merlin's bed.

"What are you talking about?"

"When I was dying…kind of like…when Nimueh poisoned me…no light this time, just…a feeling. Like I knew where you were and where I was, so I…pulled you toward me."

Arthur couldn't believe this. Why was Merlin even telling him this? It must be the fever making him so candid. It must be-

"No more secrets, Arthur. Promise. I'm sorry…sorry…Arthur…"

"Don't apologize, Merlin. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Helped you find me. I knew you'd find me…knew you'd…"

Merlin trailed off, eyes drifting shut and leaving Arthur to his thoughts. Arthur had been too scared at the time, too focused on finding Merlin to acknowledge this, but he _had_ felt…something. Like a pull in his gut. Like a rope was tied to his center, and someone was pulling on the other end, guiding him where he needed to go. The fact that he'd found Merlin in the midst of all that chaos – driving wind, pelting rain, biting cold – was it possible Merlin was telling him the truth? Had Merlin somehow…_guided_ Arthur to him? It wasn't so fantastic, really. Not in light of everything he'd learned recently. Still…if Merlin could control him like that…

No.

If Arthur had learned anything in the past two days it was that Merlin was loyal, perhaps to a fault. Arthur had to admit that Merlin's magic scared him. But _Merlin_ didn't. This magic, this power, in the hands of anyone else – in the hands of that sorcerer – _that_ scared him. But Merlin…Arthur trusted Merlin with his life. He did. This was what Merlin had tried to tell him, but he'd been too angry, blinded by hurt and rage, to see.

It's how you choose to use it that matters.

He trusted this boy – this _man_ – with his life. And _that_ was what mattered.

Oh, they were going to have words, he and Merlin. About this weird bond that allowed Merlin to somehow communicate with Arthur while he was miles away, not once but _twice _now.

About just how much Merlin was capable of.

But for now, Merlin needed to rest, to get better.

He deserved that.

Arthur picked up the rag to wipe Merlin's brow again, but Merlin was fast asleep, breathing gently. Arthur felt his forehead. The fever was still raging, but, and perhaps Arthur was merely imagining this, it seemed to have lessened somewhat.

Arthur smiled. There would definitely be words exchanged later. But for now…

"Get some rest, Merlin."

Arthur stood up. He was going to get Gaius to check on Merlin. He was also thinking about getting Merlin some more pillows, or maybe pilfering a mattress from one of the guest chambers.

Arthur was halfway out the door, so he couldn't be sure what Merlin whispered in his sleep. But it sounded like:

"Thank you."

Arthur smiled as he shut the door quietly behind him.

"You're welcome."


	6. Somewhere Along in the Bitterness

**Everything Is Never As It Seems**

**~~Chapter Five: Somewhere Along in the Bitterness~~**

Arthur figured it was the sight of his only son dragging a giant mattress through the castle halls by himself that drove his father over the edge.

"What are you _doing_, Arthur?" Uther asked when he found Arthur trying to fit the mattress through the doorway of a particularly tight staircase.

Arthur dropped the mattress with a groan, standing straight up and panting.

"I…I thought that…I just wanted Merlin to be more comfortable."

"Your servant?" Uther asked, as though the idea was far beyond the king's reach.

Arthur bristled. "He's not just…yes, it's for him."

Arthur wasn't in the mood to explain this to his father again; that Merlin was more than just a "servant." The way his father said it made it sound like Merlin was no more than a bug, and that Arthur was wrong to care about how he felt.

"How long has it been since you've slept properly, Arthur?" Uther asked sternly.

"I…I don't know," Arthur answered. _Days _probably, but he wasn't about to tell his father that.

"I'll have one of the servants bring him something to make him more comfortable. You must get some sleep."

"But-"

"That's an order, Arthur." The way he said it left no room for argument.

So naturally, Arthur tried to argue anyway.

"Father-"

"There's nothing you can do for the boy now, Arthur. He's in good hands under Gaius' care."

"I know, but-"

"Arthur." Uther said his name more gently this time, and he took a step toward the prince and put his hand on his shoulder. "You're running yourself ragged, my son. You need to rest. Would he want you to stay up all night worrying?"

Arthur thought about it, then said, "No, Father."

Uther smiled as he leaned over and kissed Arthur gently on the top of his head.

"Then get some sleep. I will have Gaius notify you if anything changes. For now, we can only wait. And hope."

Arthur nodded and started down the hallway without a fight. Truth be told, he _was_ tired, and he hadn't realized just how tired until his father had mentioned it. The idea of sleep sounded wonderful.

He just didn't think he'd be able to sleep right now even if he tried.

He was halfway down the hallway when the king called out to him.

"Arthur?"

Arthur turned and looked at his father expectantly. Uther had a strange look on his face. Arthur couldn't quite place it. He thought he just about had it when Uther shook his head and it was gone.

"Good night, Son."

"Good night, Father." Arthur turned and headed toward his chambers, leaving the king alone to wonder just how Arthur had managed to get the mattress stuck in the stairwell.

When Arthur made it to his room, he collapsed on the bed, fully clothed, and stared up at the canopy above him. There was no way he could fall asleep. No way…

A minute later, he was snoring loudly.

* * *

Arthur woke to the sound of banging on his door. He grumbled grouchily before saying, "Come in."

"Sire?"

Arthur opened his eyes to find Gwen peeking her head around the door. Gwen didn't usually come to visit him. He sat up in bed. "Guinevere? What is it?"

"I've brought you some food," she answered, stepping inside and showing him the tray she carried.

Arthur didn't feel very hungry, but he didn't want to be rude, either.

"Thank you. Please, come in."

Gwen smiled as she entered, setting the tray down on the table. She took the lid off one of the platters, and the smell of fresh sausage overwhelmed him. He inhaled deeply.

"Sausages," Gwen said with a smile, knowing full well Arthur had already deduced that. "I know they're your favorite."

"That they are," Arthur responded, and before he knew what he was doing he was at the table shoveling sausages into his mouth so enthusiastically it was almost perverse.

Gwen let out a giggle before she could stop herself, but Arthur was too busy with his food to notice. He finally paused for a second to swallow and take a sip of water from his goblet. He drank thirstily before tearing into a piece of bread.

"How did you know?" he managed to ask around the hunk of bread in his mouth.

"Merlin told me."

It should have been funny how quickly Arthur lost his appetite. Merlin certainly would have found it funny. But Merlin wasn't there. Merlin was dying, and it was Arthur's fault. Memories of the last few days came crashing down on Arthur, threatening to drown him under their crushing weight.

Arthur felt sick. He barely had time to turn aside before his breakfast came back up.

When he was done – when the spasms finally stopped and he could breathe again – he found himself kneeling on the floor and panting. He felt a hand gently rubbing his back in slow circles, and he turned to find Gwen next to him, watching him with concern.

"I'm sorry." He wiped at his mouth uselessly and turned away. He didn't know what else to say or what to do. He'd never felt more helpless in his life.

Thankfully, Gwen was there, and she seemed to know just what he needed.

She found a towel and wet it using water from Arthur's goblet. She handed it to him and let him clean his mouth as she stood and crossed over to his bed. She pulled down the covers Arthur had fallen asleep on top of last night. Then she went to Arthur's wardrobe, where she managed to find him some nightclothes. She handed them to him quietly, smiling softly. She took the water bucket from the corner and left him alone to change, which he did slowly, lost in his thoughts.

When Gwen returned a few minutes later, Arthur was dressed for bed but seated at the window, staring wordlessly out into the afternoon.

Gwen cleaned up the mess on the floor, still without saying a word. Then she refilled Arthur's water goblet and brought it to him. He took it, hands trembling. He drank slowly but deeply, trying to calm the aching in his stomach. He drained the goblet and handed it back to her.

"Thank you, Guinevere," he whispered roughly, trying to convey how grateful he was with the three simple words. Gwen, ever kind and ever tactful, smiled at him and curtsied slightly.

Arthur turned back toward the window and felt his eyelids drooping. The world outside the window seemed to blur.

"I should…bed…" Arthur muttered drowsily. He stood up and the room spun around him. Gwen reached out a hand and gently grabbed his arm, leading him toward his bed. Arthur collapsed into it and let her pull the covers over him.

He knew he should be furious with her for drugging him, but at the moment he was only grateful.

As he drifted into unconsciousness, Arthur heard Gwen speak for the first time since she'd brought him his food.

"Merlin's going to be all right, Sire. I know he is. He's stronger than we give him credit for."

Arthur hoped she was right. Through the haze of fatigue, he managed to say "thank you" again before the drugs pulled him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

When Arthur woke up, he was sore and stiff. He sat up in bed and rubbed his back. How long had he been asleep?

He got up slowly and shuffled to the window. It was noon, the sun high up in the sky overhead. It didn't look like the sun had moved at all since he'd last stared out this window.

Which meant he'd been asleep for _awhile_.

He had to check on Merlin.

He threw on some clothes and hurried out of the room.

Arthur found himself outside Gaius' door in record time. He knocked quickly and let himself in.

He found the physician eating lunch.

"Gaius."

Gaius looked at him and smiled warmly. Arthur felt a small glimmer of hope light up in chest. If Gaius was smiling, then that must mean…

"How's Merlin?"

"He woke up last night, a bit groggy and confused, but without fever. I explained everything I could about what happened to him, but he couldn't remember anything beyond the wolf attack. His wounds are healing nicely and the medicine seems to be helping. I can't make any promises, Sire, but I do believe that, given time, Merlin is going to be fine. Or at least, what passes for 'fine' where Merlin is concerned." Gaius smiled again and went back to his food.

Arthur let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and crashed onto the bench across from Gaius as relief washed though him. He leaned on the table and put his head in his hands

Fine. Merlin was going to be fine. Arthur had gotten to him in time. He wasn't going to die.

He sat silently until Gaius' voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"He's awake now if you'd like to see him. Guinevere is attempting to get some food in him."

Arthur sat up. "See him…yes," he said in a daze as he got up from the table. "Gaius, I…thank you."

The physician shook his head and stood up as well. "Thank _you_, Sire, for bringing Merlin home." Gaius bowed gratefully.

Arthur didn't feel like he deserved the thanks – this was all his fault, after all – but he accepted it regardless with a quiet "you're welcome."

Gaius went back to his meal and Arthur went up the short flight of stairs to Merlin's room. He knocked softly and entered when Gwen responded, "Come in."

Arthur found Gwen at Merlin's bedside, holding a bowl of broth that she was spoon feeding Merlin.

Merlin looked pale, small, and thinner than usual, which for Merlin was a scary feat. But he was awake, and eating…and alive.

Arthur stood and just stared at Merlin long enough to make things awkward before Gwen broke the silence.

"I'll just…go and get more water."

She walked nervously past Arthur and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

Arthur smiled at Merlin as he crossed the room and sat down in the chair Gwen had just vacated.

They sat in awkward silence, neither knowing what to say. When Arthur couldn't stand it anymore, he asked, "How do you feel, Merlin?"

"Fine, Sire," Merlin answered quietly.

"Good. That's good."

More silence.

"So…Gaius says he believes you're going to make a full recovery."

"Yes…I hope so, Sire," Merlin replied.

The awkwardness was almost suffocating.

"Do you remember anything? After the…after you were attacked?"

Merlin seemed to consider. "I remember…being attacked by the wolf…I crawled into a cave…after that…nothing. Then I woke up last night. Gaius told me…you found me and brought me back."

"Yes, I did," Arthur said with a nod.

"Thank you, Sire," Merlin said softly, bowing his shoulders slightly.

The gesture looked awkward and uncomfortable. Merlin never bowed to him. And since when did Merlin call him "Sire" every two seconds? This whole situation seemed…wrong. Awkward. Uncomfortable. Arthur could practically _feel_ the tension in the room. The formality. The short answers. The lack of jokes. Merlin was never this quiet, or this…sad.

Something had changed between them.

And Arthur _hated_ it.

This wasn't how he wanted things to go. This wasn't-

"As soon as I'm healed, I wish to return to Ealdor."

Arthur felt his heart sink into his gut. "You want to leave?"

"Yes, Sire."

"You…I…" Arthur spluttered, not sure what to say.

"With your permission, Sire," Merlin added.

Merlin wanted to leave? He'd been afraid of this; afraid he'd pushed Merlin away. He hadn't wanted this, but…could he blame Merlin?

No. He couldn't.

"Of course, Merlin. If that's what you want."

"It is."

"All right, then. I guess…okay."

The room was shrinking around Arthur. He couldn't breathe. He was going to suffocate. He had to get out.

_Now._

"Well, I'll tell Guinevere to come back so you can finish eating. Feel better, Merlin."

Arthur walked out without another word. He walked past Gwen and Gaius sitting at the table. One of them called out to him, he wasn't sure whom, but he kept walking. He walked right out of the castle and onto the grounds.

He kept walking.

Then he ran.

* * *

For the next three days, Arthur threw himself into training. He pushed his knights hard, pushed himself harder. He was tough on them. He lost his temper. He yelled at them. If any of them noticed a change in their prince none of them said anything.

Merlin would have said something. He would have told Arthur he was being a prat, and Arthur would have smacked him, and then he would have backed off. But Merlin wasn't talking to Arthur, and Arthur wasn't talking to Merlin. If Merlin wanted to leave, he was free to go. Arthur didn't need him anyway, he was a terrible servant.

He pushed his knights even harder. Trained longer. Ordered the other servants around.

A week after his talk with Merlin, no one was speaking to him.

Then one day, when Arthur was walking through the marketplace, not doing anything in particular, he yelled at a boy on the streets for staring at him the wrong way.

Morgana, who was shopping with Gwen at a jewelry stand nearby, saw the whole thing. As the boy ran away crying and the other townspeople gave him a wide berth, Morgana stomped over to Arthur and smacked him hard across the face.

"What was that for?" Arthur shrieked incredulously, holding his face.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Arthur Pendragon, but you need to stop it.

"What are you talking about?"

"As if you don't know. Ever since Merlin woke up you've been a royal prat to everyone you come across."

"I have not."

"Don't play stupid, Arthur. You haven't been yourself lately. Everyone can see it. Your knights, the servants, even your father. I've never seen you like this before."

Arthur stared at the ground, feeling properly shamed. Morgana was the only one who could be this blunt with him. Well, aside from Merlin.

Morgana sighed and the anger seemed to leave her. She continued more gently.

"Sir Leon came to me the other day. He told me you've been acting strangely. Everyone's worried about you, Arthur."

_That_ got his attention. He looked up at Morgana.

"Worried?"

"Yes. Arthur…tell me what's bothering you. Please."

"I…" Arthur didn't know where to start.

"Does this have to do with Merlin?"

Before he knew it, Arthur was telling her everything. He left out the part about Merlin's magic, but he told her what was bothering him. How he'd had an argument with Merlin the night he left Camelot. How Merlin seemed different now. How things between them had changed. How he was afraid that he'd pushed Merlin away for good. How Merlin wanted to go back to Ealdor.

"You don't want him to leave, do you?"

"I…no, I don't," Arthur finally admitted, not just to Morgana but to himself.

"Well, did you tell him that?"

"No. I told him he was free to go if he wanted to."

Morgana rolled her eyes and groaned loudly, shaking her head. "_Men_."

"What about 'men'?" Arthur asked defensively.

"Arthur, I realize this is a difficult concept for you to grasp. But you need to _talk to him_."

Arthur rolled his eyes. Typical woman's answer to everything: talk it out.

"I mean it, Arthur," Morgana continued. "If you're afraid you pushed him away, then you need to talk to him about that. He's not going to know you're sorry unless you talk to him. And if you don't want him to leave, you need to _tell him_. Otherwise he's going to think that you want him to go, and he'll leave, and nothing will change. You'll lose a friend for nothing."

Arthur stood silent for a moment, pondering Morgana's words.

"Just talk to him, Arthur. You owe it to yourself and you owe it to him. You have nothing to lose by talking to him, and everything to lose if you don't."

Arthur really hated to admit it, but Morgana was right. He knew he had to talk to Merlin. If he was honest with himself, he had known for awhile. He was just….

Afraid.

There. He admitted it. Arthur Pendragon was afraid. He'd faced warlocks and witches, griffins and questing beasts, and he was afraid to talk to _Merlin._ He was a knight of Camelot, the crown prince. He couldn't let a simple conversation scare him.

Morgana was right. He had to talk to Merlin. The sooner, the better.

He shook his head and smiled.

"You can be a little preachy, Morgana, but sometimes…well, sometimes you can make a good point."

Morgana smirked. "Thank you. If you ever need someone to set you straight again, you know who to ask. Let's go, Gwen."

As the two women walked off Arthur heard Morgana say, "_Men_. Honestly, Gwen, they'd be lost without us." And he heard Gwen laugh as she agreed.

Arthur turned and headed back to the castle. He would see Merlin now, with Morgana's advice fresh in his mind.

Before he lost his nerve.

_...to be concluded..._


	7. You've Got a Friend in Me

**Everything Is Never As It Seems**

**~~Epilogue: You've Got a Friend In Me~~**

Ten minutes later, Arthur found himself in Gaius' chambers, asking if he could speak with Merlin.

"Of course, Sire. It's been awhile since you've been by to see him."

"I know. I should have come by sooner. I just…"

"Merlin told me he plans to return to Ealdor when he's better," Gaius stated bluntly.

Arthur flinched. "I know, he told me the same. Only I…well…I think he's only leaving because he believes I still want him to go."

Gaius' eyebrows rose slightly. "And you don't want him to leave, Sire?"

"No," Arthur replied firmly, and he knew now more than ever just how much he meant it. "I don't. I've had time to think things over and I…I trust him, Gaius. I want him to stay."

Gaius smiled. "You should tell him that. Merlin's been…sad since he woke up. He won't say as much to me, but I get the feeling that he's afraid you're upset with him. He thinks you still want him to leave, and he's prepared himself to do so."

Arthur let out a sigh – a sigh of _relief _– and smiled. "All this time I thought _he_ was upset with _me_."

Gaius shook his head. "He's not upset, my lord. I believe there's a misunderstanding here, and I think you owe it to yourself and to Merlin to talk things through."

"Have you been talking to Morgana lately?" Arthur asked with a smile.

"No. Why?"

"Nevermind. Gaius…thank you. Again."

Gaius bowed slightly. "Of course. But may I ask you to do something for me?"

Arthur nodded, not sure what Gaius could want from him.

"Get Merlin to stay. I've grown fond of that boy, and I'm afraid my old heart might miss him too much. Besides, I'll have no one to run my errands for me if he leaves."

"Me neither," Arthur agreed with a smile. "I'll do my best."

"Thank you."

Arthur turned and walked to Merlin's door. He paused outside and let out a long, slow breath to steady himself. Then he knocked.

"Come in."

Arthur entered the room to find Merlin sitting up in bed reading.

"Well, it's good to see you still know what to do with a book, Merlin."

Merlin nodded, not looking up. "Yes, Sire."

Okay, no jokes. Arthur would have to try a different approach. If Merlin insisted on calling him "sire," then maybe Merlin would respond to him if he approached this as Prince Arthur, not just Arthur.

He stood up straighter as he approached Merlin's bed.

"I need to talk to you, Merlin."

Merlin picked up on the tone in Arthur's voice, and he put his book down.

"About what, Sire?"

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. He sat down on the chair next to Merlin's bed.

He didn't know where to start. He had so much he wanted to say. He didn't want Merlin to leave just because he felt like that was what Arthur wanted. If Merlin truly wanted to go of his own accord, that was fine. But he didn't want Merlin to go without knowing that Arthur had come to accept Merlin's magic. That Arthur trusted him.

That Arthur really wanted him to stay.

"About you going back to Ealdor."

He saw a look of confusion pass over Merlin's face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Do you remember anything we talked about the other night, Merlin? When you had a fever? Anything at all?"

Merlin frowned.

"No, I don't. I know I was awake and I know we talked about….something. I feel like it was important, but…"

He trailed off, lost in his thoughts.

"Yes, it was important. But we can discuss it another time."

Merlin nodded.

"Yes, sire."

Again, that oddly formal tone. Merlin never talked to him like this. Arthur wanted to say something about it, but he decided against it. He had other things he wanted to discuss first.

"Merlin…the other night you told me that when the wolf attacked you, you didn't use magic to protect yourself."

"No, I didn't."

"Why?"

Merlin seemed to deliberate for a second. Then he said:

"I guess because I…"

When Merlin looked away, and Arthur saw the look of shame on his face, he wanted to kick himself.

"Why?" Arthur asked again, as gently as he could.

Merlin's answer was barely above a whisper.

"I didn't want to disappoint you."

Merlin seemed to shrink against the pillows, and in that moment Arthur hated himself for putting Merlin through this. For making him feel like his magic, which was clearly so much a part of him, was something to be hated and ashamed of. Like _he_ was someone to be ashamed of.

Merlin thought Arthur was disappointed with him?

Arthur felt disappointed with _himself_ right now.

"You don't disappoint me, Merlin."

Merlin looked up at him, and Arthur thought he saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Sire?"

"And I don't want you to feel ashamed, either. Merlin, I don't want you to stop using your magic."

Confusion flooded Merlin's features.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"I mean it. You didn't use your magic and it almost got you killed. That's just stupid, Merlin. A warrior uses every weapon in his arsenal to protect himself."

"Yes, but I thought you didn't approve of using magic because it's evil." Merlin flinched almost imperceptibly on the word "evil." It was a small, probably unconscious gesture, but it made Arthur feel sick with himself.

"Well, that was before some clodpoll I know said something that actually made sense."

"Really?"

No denying it. There was _definitely_ a glimmer of hope in Merlin's eyes now.

"Yes. He told me that magic by itself is neither good nor evil; that it's how you choose to use it that matters."

Merlin's eyes widened almost comically, and Arthur saw a hint of the old sarcastic Merlin he knew so well when he replied, "You mean you can actually remember something that _I_ said?"

Merlin's eyes were getting watery, and Arthur needed to put a stop to this silly girlishness _now_.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," Arthur replied, and without thinking he punched Merlin on the arm. Merlin gasped in pain and grabbed his shoulder.

Arthur winced. "Sorry."

"No problem," Merlin replied through gritted teeth. "Doesn't hurt at all. Really." Merlin put on the bravest face he could manage, which was unconvincing and unimpressive, as it ended up making Merlin look more constipated than anything.

Arthur laughed. "Sure, Merlin."

They sat quietly for a minute before Arthur broke the silence.

"I meant what I said, you know. You shouldn't stop using your magic. It would be like…giving up a part of yourself. It would be like-"

"Like if you stopped being an insufferable prat?" Merlin asked with a grin.

Arthur couldn't suppress a grin of his own, but he had something important to say and he was going to say it.

"Shut it, Merlin. I'm trying to make a point here."

"Sorry."

"Anyway, if magic is a part of who you are, I wouldn't want you to deny it. You denied it this time and it almost got you killed. That can't happen again. I forbid it."

"Are you telling me I can't stop using magic?"

"I'm telling you to use your discretion. I'm telling you that I…well…that I trust you."

"Really?"

"Yes. Just…don't give me a reason to regret that trust, Merlin"

"I won't. And I'm sorry I… I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I really am. I was afraid. Not because I thought you would turn me in, or that your father would have me executed. I just…I guess I just didn't want to disappoint you."

"Merlin…you saved my life. Countless times, apparently. I'd hardly call that disappointing."

Merlin smiled that little boy smile, the annoying one that made him look like he was a five year old boy and Arthur was the dad who had just told him he was proud of him. Normally Arthur would smack that look off his face, but tonight…well, he figured he'd let Merlin have this one.

"There's one thing I don't get, Merlin. Why? Why would you keep protecting me? I do nothing but run you down all the time and call you an idiot. I had no idea you were helping me all this time, so you clearly didn't do it for my approval. So why would you-"

"You really don't get it, do you?"

Arthur frowned. "Get what?"

"How important you are to this kingdom."

Arthur was floored. He didn't know what to say.

Merlin continued.

"I've been around you long enough to see it. And I'm not the only one. Your knights…they would do anything to protect you. And so would I."

Arthur was touched. He was at a loss for words, and that never happened to him.

"Merlin…"

"You're a good man, and one day you'll be a great king. And when that day comes I'll consider myself lucky to be your servant."

Arthur smiled.

"Does that mean you want to stay in Camelot?"

"I do. That is…if you still want me to. After everything that's happened, I don't know if…"

Merlin trailed off and looked at the floor, and Arthur could see shame in his eyes again and he hated it. But more than that, he hated himself for being the cause of it. So he did something he rarely ever did: he opened up to Merlin.

"Merlin, I want someone I can rely on to fight next to me and have my back, someone I can depend on…someone I can trust. I need people like you on my side, Merlin. I want you to stay in Camelot."

"You mean that, Sire?"

"Yes, I mean it. And stop calling me 'Sire.' My friends call me 'Arthur'." He hadn't meant to say the F word; it had just kind of slipped out. And now Merlin was smiling that annoying smile again, and the whole situation was getting far too girly for Arthur's tastes. "Besides, who else will I call an idiot if you leave?"

"One of the other servants?"

Arthur shook his head. "Not the same. No one's as big an idiot as you are, Merlin."

Merlin grinned his most idiotic grin and Arthur smiled. Merlin stayed quiet for a whole ten seconds before he answered him.

"All right, I'll be your servant again, Arthur. But I have one condition."

Arthur crossed his arms in mock annoyance.

"Setting the conditions yourself now, are you? All right, what is it?"

"Don't make me wash your socks again. Ever."

"My socks?" Arthur uncrossed his arms, and his voice rose an octave as he went on the defensive. "What's wrong with my socks, Merlin?"

"Please, Arthur. I mean it. Your feet smell terrible."

Arthur couldn't help it.

He burst out laughing.

Honest, body-wracking, tear-inducing laughter that made his chest hurt and his sides ache. He knew he must look like an idiot, but he couldn't help it.

It had just been such a long time since he'd laughed this hard.

Merlin grinned and started to laugh, too, but the motion jarred his bruised and sore body, and he groaned in pain.

Arthur wiped tears from his eyes, put a hand on Merlin's shoulder, and squeezed gently.

"All right, that's enough. You need to get some rest. I want you fit as a fiddle in two weeks. That should give me enough time to compile a list of chores for you to do."

Merlin groaned again, but it clearly wasn't from any physical pain.

"Fine. I won't make you wash my socks anymore."

Merlin grinned toothily.

"Really?"

"Really. Now get some sleep."

Arthur got up and headed for the door.

"Arthur?"

He turned around to face Merlin.

"Yes?"

"Did you mean what you said?"

"About what?"

"About you and me…about…fighting together?"

"Yes, Merlin. I meant it. Someday, when things are different… someday you won't have to hide your magic anymore."

Merlin smiled. Arthur's words had just had a profound impact on Merlin: they had given him hope. Hope that, not only would things be like they used to be but that maybe, just maybe, they could be even better.

But Arthur couldn't know that.

"That's good. Because you know you couldn't save yourself without my help, right?"

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You know, if you keep that up, I might rescind the offer about my socks."

"You're a great and powerful warrior, Arthur. Truly. The best there's ever been."

Merlin was lucky he was hurt, because otherwise Arthur would have lobbed the nearest object at his servant's head. Instead he replied:

"Get some sleep, you idiot."

"My friends call me 'Merlin,' you know."

Arthur found himself smiling again as he nodded.

"Get some sleep, Merlin."

The prince left the room and closed the door quietly behind him.

There was still a lot that he and Merlin needed to discuss. What had really happened with the wolf? Who had it out for Merlin? Were they still alive? And what were they to make of Merlin's mysterious connection to Arthur: his ability to call out to him, to guide him, while he lay dying?

Arthur had a long road ahead of him. Keeping Merlin's magic secret from his father wasn't going to be easy. It was going to take some effort. But it was an effort he would expend gladly to protect Merlin.

As Arthur walked back to his chambers, he brooded over what life would be like when he was king. Merlin had said he would be a great king. Arthur didn't know how much he believed that. But one thing he was sure of was that, in the end, position didn't matter so much. Not to him, anyway. It never had, really. It was why he treated every knight, every servant, and every citizen of Camelot like they mattered.

Because they did.

A king would be nothing without his kingdom, after all.

And so Arthur decided on what his first act would be when he was crowned King of Camelot. When Arthur was made king and he could do what he wanted, Merlin would no longer be his manservant. Merlin would be his advisor, his confidante.

His closest friend.

Maybe Merlin was right. Maybe Arthur _could_ be a great king.

He would just need a little help.

_the end_

* * *

AN: I actually wrote this chapter a few weeks ago – before I wrote the two before it –because I knew everything I wanted to say in the end. I love that the new season has actually hit on a lot of the same points that I hit on in this chapter. It means the series is finally getting around to going where I want it to, lol. The idea that Arthur can call Merlin friend and will look to him for advice, and the idea that Merlin and the knights are willing to do anything to protect Arthur because they believe in the kind of king he will be for Camelot are my two favorite concepts for this show. That's what I wanted to get across in this fic more than anything. Hope you all enjoyed it, and thanks to everyone who stuck around and everyone who reviewed! :-)


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